When the Well Runs Dry REVISED
by Erik's little bird
Summary: The original version was not up to my usual standards.  Alfred "misses the water".  DISCLAIMER: I own the situation in this fic, and nothing else.


**When the Well Runs Dry**

Early one frozen evening there was a pounding at the door of Castle vonKrolock. The Count was watching his "flock" rise from the top of the castle battlements. Sarah clung to his side and watched him with an adoring smile on her face. Until the the echo of the pounding reached them.

"Alfred has returned," Count vonKrolock said, turning to Sarah. Sarah rolled his eyes carelessly as she wrapped the count's cloak around her bare shoulders. Now that she was away from Alfred and the village, she never wore the plain, simple, and warm kind of clothing her mother always made her. No, she was beautiful, and she wanted always to show it off. Tonight, she showed it in a slightly simpler version of the red gown she'd worn the night of the ball the year before.

Herbert was in his room when Alfred began begging to be let in. Alfred's pitiful voice echoed down the halls, (in everyone's ears but Koukol's, anyway.) Herbert nervously finished fastening the buttons on his clean, white shirt and pulling his long, pale hair into a ponytail before tearing down the halls to open the door.

Herbert flung the door open, and the sight of Alfred standing there, shaking from head to foot, with a single tear rolling down his cheek, was almost too much for him. He grabbed Alfred by the shoulders and yanked him inside, reveling in the way his head reeled when Alfred fell into his arms.

Alfred and Herbert stood there for quite some time after the door slammed shut. Herbert whispered, "Oh, I knew you'd come back, Alfred. I just _knew_ it!" Alfred broke down. _I shouldn't be here. Not with Herbert. Why couldn't it have been Sarah who opened the door?_ A little voice in Alfred's head that he couldn't ignore answered, _She doesn't love you._

_She didn't even glance back for a second_, Alfred thought. It was only when a sympathetic sound escaped Herbert's lips, (followed by a gentle kiss on the forehead,) that Alfred realized he'd spoken aloud. He blushed slightly, which Herbert didn't even know vampires could do. _What do I care anyway?_ The voice said, _Because this is Herbert._ What does that matter now? _It's not as if I have a soul to worry about. _The voice said, _You don't love him._ Alfred continued to argue with himself, _It is Herbert, and Herbert is…_ _Is what?_ the voice asked. Herbert is comforting, Alfred confessed. _That's not enough_, said the voice. Alfred took a deep breath, and pulled away from Herbert.

"I'm sorry, Herbert. I shouldn't... I mean… thank you."

Herbert gave his hand one last squeeze and said, "Come, Alfred. You're starved." He put his arm about Alfred's shoulders and said, "And you're in no condition to hunt for yourself tonight." They walked together to the cellars.

"We cannot keep human blood down here, of course," Herbert explained as he opened a barrel and poured blood into a pot to place on the stove, "but Koukol catches stray cats and wolves and things during the day, and we at least have something." Alfred grimaced at the thought of perhaps eating someone's lost pet, which made Herbert laugh.

"You will get used to it, mon Cherie," he said, "Koukol has a soft spot for missing pets, I don't know how he always knows where they belong, but he returns them to their owners. Of course, this sometimes means we go without for a while." Alfred relaxed and watched as Herbert filled two large cups with the now steaming blood. He was so hungry, he nearly drained the cup in one gulp. It wasn't as bad as he thought, and soon he was halfway through his second cup. When that was drained and Alfred licked it clean, a thoroughly amused Herbert took the cup away, and said, "You're a mess, darling."

"Herbert, what are you—" Alfred began to struggle weakly. Meanwhile Herbert was licking splatters of spilled blood off Alfred's face.

"Relax, darling, or you could get hurt," Herbert chided gently. Alfred thought about Herbert's teeth and what they could do accidentally, (or accidentally on purpose,) and sat perfectly still. Herbert sighed as he licked. When he slid his tongue to lick the blood off Alfred's lips, Alfred gave a jerk and broke free.

"I wasn't finished," Herbert complained.

"Herbert—"

"I was only helping you clean up, Alfred."

"No you weren't," Alfred scoffed, backing away as Herbert crawled toward him.

"But—"

"You weren't," Alfred insisted.

"Alright, I wasn't. But—"

"We can't do this, Herbert."

"Oh, but we _can_, darling," Herbert said with a mischievous smile.

"_No_," Alfred said, "I don't…_ like_ you that way."

"Oh? What way do you like me?" Herbert asked. He'd stopped moving and sat back on his heels. In an instant, Herbert's face was innocent and eager.

"Well," Alfred said, "we don't really know each other. Couldn't we at least try being… I mean, I would like it we could…"

"What, Alfred? Be friends?" Herbert spat the words out as if they had a bad taste.

"Why not?" Alfred asked.

"Friends don't hold each other like you let me hold you just now," Herbert fumed.

"I know," Alfred said, "and I apologized for that. I really didn't mean to give you the wrong idea." Herbert scrutinized Alfred for several moments before saying, "Friends, then. I forgive you, Alfred."

Herbert and Alfred spent several nights together. Alfred was still a little uncomfortable the whole time. They talked and laughed for hours in Herbert's room or on the castle grounds, but Herbert would find reasons to touch him, and he never did stop calling Alfred "darling", or "mon Cherie", in spite of their agreement. One night, as Alfred left Herbert's room to visit the library, Count vonKrolock asked Alfred to follow him to the library.

"I need to have a word with you about my son, Alfred," Count vonKrolock said, shutting the door as they stepped into the dark, dusty room. Alfred couldn't bring himself to say anything, so he just nodded. The count found a chair and sat down.

"Herbert is very fond of you," vonKrolok said, once he was comfortable.

"I know," Alfred said, clearing his throat. Count vonKrolock merely scoffed. Alfred took a step toward the chair in which the count was sitting and said, "I do! I can see it when he looks at me. And... well, you've seen the way he fusses over me." The count smiled, and as he nodded, he said, "And I am sure you understand why we are having this discussion?"

"Sir?" asked Alfred, blinking. The count sighed.

"He's my _son_, Alfred! I cannot have you toying with his emotions again!" His voice was quiet and dangerous.

Alfred gulped. After a long moment, he said, "I never had any intention of hurting Herbert. I mean, I was human then. And now, well, he knows I loved Sarah. We're… we're _friends_, sir." The count shook his head almost sadly, and was about to speak, when the door opened and Herbert walked in.

"I heard what you said, mein Freund. Is it true? You _loved_ Sarah? Past tense?" A grin spread across Herbert's face as he spoke.

Alfred gulped again, and started to stutter, "Yes, past tense. Now, don't look at me like that!"

"Come now, _mein Freund_, you are not still frightened of me?" asked Herbert, raising his eyebrows, the very picture of innocence.

"I was never afraid," said Alfred, a petulant glare on his face.

"Yes you were."

"Was not!"

Then Herbert turned to his father and said, "He really was," matter-of-factly. The count covered his mouth to stifle his laughter and snuck out of the library. Alfred returned to the matter of Herbert's expression with a stuttered "Herbert, stop! I mean it!"

Herbert took a step toward Alfred, asking, "Why?" Alfred sighed and walked backward as Herbert continued his advance.

"We already had this discussion, remember?" Alfred fought to control his panic as he spoke.

"Refresh my memory," Herbert said, "Why do we have to continue this _friendship_? What could you possibly still have to worry about? It isn't like I'm just using you." Herbert's tone was that of a patient parent reasoning with a child.

"That _is_ the problem, Herbert. You're _in love_ with me." Herbert's hand caught Alfred's, but he pulled away, saying, "Besides, I still need to adjust. Or did you forget I didn't choose this life?" Herbert sank quickly into his father's abandoned chair.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that," Alfred said after kneeling next to Herbert.

Herbert's face was buried in his hands. He slowly lifted it and said, "I would never have forced you into this, you know."

"Wouldn't you? In your room before the ball—"

"I couldn't help that! You found me before I'd had any blood, Alfred. I was famished, and you were right there. Sweet, compliant, _scared_. No blood is tastier than that of someone you love. It was irresistible! Intoxicating! Surely you understand?"

"I'm irresistible?" Alfred asked when he could stop his mouth from hanging open.

"As if you didn't know." Herbert said, grinning.

Alfred was blushing and stuttering again, "But I didn't know." Herbert chuckled warmly and shook his head.

For some time after that, Herbert and Alfred were quiet. It was Alfred who broke the silence.

"Yes, I understand. I need you to understand that just because I'm not pining over Sarah doesn't mean you should… make advances."

"But you know I love you," Herbert complained.

"And I care about you. But Herbert, it isn't love." Herbert nodded. They were both quiet for the rest of the night. After that night, Alfred noticed a change in Herbert.

Alfred watched Herbert every night for weeks. Herbert would not speak with him. When Alfred greeted him in the evenings, Herbert would smile and nod, but it simply wasn't the same. This was Herbert calm and indifferent, and too much like his father for Alfred's comfort.

One night, Alfred decided he had enough, and knocked on Herbert's door. When Herbert opened it, Alfred immediately said, "Are you angry with me?"

"No," said Herbert, tilting his head to think before he spoke. Alfred walked into the room, turned to face him.

"You've been distant lately. I was worried I hurt you," Alfred said. Herbert was grinning again. He circled Alfred when Alfred stopped walking.

"You missed me," Herbert said. He looked and sounded like a child who'd just uncovered a secret. Alfred blushed and scoffed several times. Herbert stretched out his hand and caressed the former student.

"Well, I liked our chats, Herbert, and I missed our walks," Alfred reasoned, trying to ignore the chills that followed Herbert's hands, the sight of Herbert's loose hair and still-opened shirt, and the distracting smirk on Herbert's lips.

"You missed me, Alfred. Admit it," Herbert said, chuckling. There was something animal in Herbert's voice.

"Yes, alright? I missed you. I mean, Professor Abronsius is dead. In the entire world, you're the only being who cares about me! I didn't even realize I knew what that felt like until I met you!" Herbert stopped. He was facing Alfred and letting a hand rest on his shoulder. Alfred lowered his eyes for a moment. When he looked up, there was a question in Herbert's face. Herbert was leaning in to Alfred.

"Yes," Alfred whispered, only dimly aware of the source of his voice. Herbert wrapped his arms around Alfred and kissed him softly.

"Oh!" Alfred said when they pulled apart. He couldn't find a voice for the thrills coursing through his veins, so he pulled Herbert forward and tightened his arms around Herbert's neck as he kissed him again. Herbert was gentle and passionate. Alfred wanted it to go on forever. The sweetness of Herbert's kiss, of his arms pinning them together and eventually holding Alfred upright as Alfred's knees gave way was almost more than the former student could bear. A sharp ache filled Alfred's chest, and he thought he would die again, until he slid his mouth along Herbert's jaw and up to the shell of his ear and whispered, "I love you, Herbert."

"Darling," Herbert murmured. It was all Alfred needed to hear.

The lovers did not join the rest of the vampires in the cellars that morning. They drew the thick, black curtains around the bed closed before the sun could stream in. Herbert hovered over Alfred, letting his hands and lips roam of their own free will and nearly begging Alfred to do the same. The whole day passed in love-making, until Alfred was so delirious from the pleasure that he babbled incoherently. He caught the words, "love," and "always," when he spoke them, but it wasn't until the sun set, and the rest of the castle began to rise that Herbert said, "_You're_ the only man I've ever _really_ loved, and I won't ever love anyone else as I love you," and Alfred suddenly understood what it was he'd said that day.


End file.
